Just Not Cricket (Or, Not Just Cricket)
by the classicist
Summary: Offering for Andith Fest 2019, set in 'The Sadder But Wiser Girl'-verse. August 1951: A visit from Elinor and Jack shakes up Anthony and Edith's peace. Meanwhile, the annual cricket match is approaching, and William and Laura are discovering the difficulties of courtship...
1. Chapter 1

**AN: My contribution to Andith Fest 2019! Thanks to Lady Tarlea for organising it all for us.**

* * *

**Locksley, August 1951**

"And she didn't give you _any_ clue at all why they were coming?" asked Anthony, frowning anxiously over his newspaper at his wife.

"No." Edith swallowed a bite of toast, and repeated the information she had given her husband ten minutes previously. "All she said was that she and Jack had felt like coming for a visit, and that they'd be here tomorrow evening."

"Boston to Locksley's a long way to come on a whim," he shook his head, drumming his fingers on the breakfast table. "_And_ with a six month old, too…"

"Well, I for one am terribly excited to see our granddaughter again," Edith retorted, with an air of finality about her.

A comfortable silence fell for a while; it was just Edith and Anthony for a late breakfast that morning - William had vanished on his motorcycle at dawn, with Laura Stewart clinging to the back of it; and Violet and Nick had driven off to inspect a new record shop in York. "How did she sound?" Anthony asked eventually. "Elinor, on the telephone?"

"Oh, fine. A little tired, but… fine." At Anthony's deepening look of unhappiness, Edith pointed out reasonably, "She _has_ just crossed the Atlantic, darling!"

"But why didn't she let us know _before_ they sailed?" Anthony gave up on _The Times,_ folding it up and slapping it down on the table next to his plate. "Telephoning from Liverpool… it isn't like her."

Edith stood briskly, setting aside her napkin, and kissed his cheek. Her fingers lingered against his jaw. "Well, we can't spend two days fretting about it, my love. Especially not when you've a cricket team to organise." She smiled encouragingly. "Perhaps you could ask Jack, when he gets here. I know Elinor would appreciate that."

Anthony cast a dark look at the ceiling. "Oh, yes, a Yank's all we need. That'd _really_ put the tin lid on it."

Edith sank down into her chair again. "This isn't like you. What is it?"

"I just… can't help feeling as if… something's gone wrong, somehow." He looked straight at her. "I suppose Jack _is_ with her? She's not… left him?"

"No! Of course not. She said very specifically 'Jack and I'." Gently, she kissed him again, letting her forehead rest against his. "Please try not to worry, Anthony?"

A trace of his old, affectionate smile crossed her husband's face. "Easier said than done, my sweet one." He sighed. "It was all… so easy, when they were small, wasn't it? I didn't realise it at the time, but it was… And now…"

"You can't keep them under your eye all the time," Edith finished for him. "I know. I know."

* * *

"Will you come and cheer me on?" William asked quietly, looking across the picnic blanket at Laura. "At the cricket match?"

Laura took a sip from her glass, not looking at him. "Of course. I'll be cheering for _all_ of the Locksley team."

William's face fell. "Oh. Yes. Of course."

Laura's head bopped affectionately against his shoulder. "But _especially_ for you."

His smile was sheepish and made all those little features he shared with his papa spring into sharper relief. "Oh. Well, that's all right, then. When are you going back to Paris?"

"The day afterwards." At William's sad expression, Laura squeezed his hand and reminded him, "I was lucky to get a whole week off, you _know_ that. And jobs with Balenciaga don't grow on trees." She hesitated. "You... _could_ come and visit, you know. It's only a hop across the Channel."

"I know. But… there's so much to do here. Dad's… slowing down. He tries not to show it, but he is. He's _old_, Laura, and… he deserves a rest. He and Mother should both be able to take a back seat a bit."

"Oh, I'd like to be there when you tell your mother _that_!" she chuckled. A moment later, however, the amusement had faded from her face. "Are we mad, Will," she wondered, "trying to make a go of this?"

* * *

The Yorkshire countryside was beautiful. Jack had thought so ever since he had first visited, four years ago. The wild, rolling hills, the fields that stretched out as far as the eye could see, the tiny villages… The only thing, at present, which was marring this most picturesque of views was the sound of his wife retching violently behind a bush. This was the third time they'd stopped since leaving the hotel at York three quarters of an hour ago. The first time, he'd tried to be helpful and hold her hair out of the way, but Elinor had sent him on his way with a series of brisk words he hadn't believed he'd ever hear leave her mouth. Now, he was quite sensibly waiting by the car, Charlotte in one arm.

Footsteps sounded behind them and Jack turned. "Hey, look, Lottie, here's Mommy," he smiled, as his wife trudged back towards them. Sympathetically, he leaned in and kissed her forehead. "OK, sweetheart?"

"I honestly thought I'd be all right. It was only some tea and dry toast," Elinor smiled weakly. "Clearly not." With a slight grunt of effort, she took a grizzling Charlotte from her father's arms and rocked her gently. "All right, Lottie. Here's Mummy… Mummy's here."

"There's some water in the flask," Jack suggested, but Elinor shook her head.

"Better not risk it, darling. We're nearly there now, anyway, and then I can have a lie-down."

"How do you feel? You know, about telling them?" Jack asked as they got back into the hired car.

"Well, it has to be done sometime." Pursing her lips, and looking rather like her mama, Elinor pointed out, "I can't just wire them in six months' time and say, 'You've got another grandchild', can I?"

Jack shrugged. "I can break the news, if you like. While you're resting?"

"Thanks, but I really should face the music myself." Elinor bit her lip and looked out of the window as the Yorkshire countryside whizzed by. _Besides, I'm not entirely sure Daddy isn't going to try to horse-whip you_, she added silently.

* * *

"Darlings!" Edith beamed, throwing her arms around Elinor as she got out of the car. "Oh, we thought you'd be getting the train, not driving all this way!"

Elinor smiled faintly. "Hello, Mummy. Well, we thought a car might be… better."

"And here's Lottie, to say 'hi' to her grandma," Jack grinned, covering Elinor's silence and intervening before Edith could ask any more questions. "Hello, Lady Strallan."

"Hello, Jack, my dear. And Lottie, too!" Easily, Edith scooped her granddaughter up into her arms. "Now, Lottie, why don't we go and find Grandpapa, hmm? And your uncles and auntie?"

Her mother's back safely turned, Elinor half-slumped against Jack. Quickly, he slung his arm around her waist. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's go get you that lie-down, hmm?"

Despite his anxiety, Anthony was delighted to see his granddaughter, being borne into the hall by his wife. "Charlotte Clara Carnaby-Strallan," he told her seriously as he hugged her close, "you are getting bigger and bigger _every_ time I lay eyes on you."

His eyes flickered towards the library door as his daughter and son-in-law entered. A tremor of something passed over his face briefly, and he opened his mouth as if about to say something… then closed it again. When he finally spoke, it was only to say, "Elinor, Jack, hello. Gosh, isn't Lottie getting big?"

"She didn't look at all well." Anthony was pacing in front of the fireplace, rocking a sleepy Charlotte in one arm. Her parents had ascended the stairs some twenty minutes earlier, pleading exhaustion from their journey, leaving little Lottie in the capable hands of her grandparents. "She was pale, she was quiet, she was _thin_ \- and when have you known Elinor ever turn down cake?" He turned, and fixed an anxious eye on his wife. "You don't think she's ill?"

Edith shook her head calmly. "No, darling. I don't _think_ so."

"Then what…"

She stood, and kissed him firmly on the mouth, silencing him. "Try not to fret, hmm? I'm going to go and have a word with Jack." She brushed a gentle hand over Lottie's blonde curls. "Look after your grandpapa for me, hmm, Lottie?"

* * *

Edith found her son-in-law and daughter in their room; Elinor was curled up fast asleep, her back against Jack's side. He sat on top of the quilt, ankles crossed, book in one hand as his other stroked gently through his wife's hair. He looked up at Edith's entrance, his expression that of a man who fully expected to be interrogated. Slowly, he got up and set aside his book, before following Edith back out of the bedroom and shutting the door softly behind them.

"Well?" Edith asked him. "How far gone is she?"

Jack's eyes widened. "I - How did you - ?" Edith raised a single, somewhat derisive eyebrow, and his shoulders sank in defeat. "About three months."

"Ah. Wasn't she - weren't you - I would have _thought_ that two doctors would have managed between them to take _some_ sort of precaution." There was no mistaking the reproof in his mother-in-law's voice.

"We were," Jack admitted, red-faced. "But sometimes… precautions just don't work."

Edith sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, and admitted, "No need to tell me that, I'm afraid. Foolishly, I assumed… things would have got _better_, in the intervening years."

"That's why we're here," Jack murmured. "The baby, I mean. I… Ellie tries to say she's fine, but… she isn't, not at all. It's far too soon after Lottie, and everything seems to be affecting her so much more this time around. And I thought… being here, with you and Sir Anthony… having more people around to - to help take care of her…" He stopped, looking perfectly helpless, and for the first time Edith saw the dark circles under his eyes and the chewed fingernails on the hand he reached up to run through his hair.

Reassuringly, she squeezed his elbow. "Of course. Darling, you did _absolutely_ the right thing."


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, I forgot to ask - did you have a nice day with Laura yesterday, William?" Edith asked as they went in for dinner that night. Her son didn't reply for a moment, his eyes glazed over with a thoughtful expression. "William?" she repeated, when it appeared that an answer would not be forthcoming.

Her son shook himself and looked at her properly. "Sorry, Mother… miles away. What were you saying?"

"Did you have a nice day with Laura?" Her face creased into a sympathetic expression. "Or did something go wrong? You don't look yourself."

William shrugged and pulled out her chair at the table. "No. We had a very nice day. But… well, she goes back to Paris next Monday, so…" He sighed heavily. "I'm being stupid. Her work's in Paris. There's no way around it."

Edith rested a gentle hand on his. "Darling, if it's meant to be… everything will work itself out. You could go and visit her. Stay for a bit, even."

William shook his head. "There's too much to do here." As his mother opened her mouth to protest, he added, a little sharply, "There _is_! And that's all there is to it. It's just… no-go."

To the right, Violet asked, "So, have we got you for long, Elinor?"

"Tired of us already, Vi?" her sister returned. She looked better after her rest, but still a touch pale, and it was with small, ginger spoonfuls that she was consuming her carrot soup.

"Of course she isn't," Nick - the little peacemaker - interrupted from Jack's other side. Edith shot Anthony a fond smile down the table.

"Well," Jack began slowly, exchanging a quick glance with his mother-in-law.

"We've… got some news, actually," Elinor finished.

"Oh? What's that?" Anthony asked, setting his soup spoon down. "You're not… ill, I hope, Elinor?"

"No. Not… _ill._" Elinor took a breath and announced, "Actually, J-Jack and I are - are expecting again."

* * *

Edith did not look up from her book as Anthony emerged from his dressing room and slid into bed next to her. "Oh. Are you not talking to me either?" he grimaced. "Splendid."

Edith sighed deeply and finally looked up, fixing him with the look that had not once failed to quell any of their children. "Well, I don't think that you handled things awfully well this evening, no, my darling."

_There was a storm of reaction - Violet let out an exclamation, William laughed and reached across to shake sheepish looking Jack's hand, Nick went bright red, Edith squeezed her daughter's hand tightly - and then, over it all, "How _could_ you be so irresponsible, Carnaby?" Anthony demanded, in an anguished voice._

_Silence fell immediately._

_"__Daddy - " Elinor tried weakly, but it was no good._

_"__Don't even _think_ of defending him, Elinor!" Anthony snapped, not taking his eyes off his son-in-law. "It's only been six months since Charlotte. What sort of man - !" He shook his head, not finishing the sentence. "He had a duty to protect you, and he's failed, and I want to know why!"_

_"__Anthony - " But it seemed that not even his wife could halt _this_ outburst._

_"__So what was it, Carnaby? Why did you think you could - ?"_

_"__Darlings," Edith said loudly to her other children, "why don't you go through to the library and we'll join you in a bit, hmm? Once everyone's had chance to calm themselves down and discuss things sensibly."_

_"__Don't worry," Anthony snapped, rising from his chair. "All of you stay and enjoy your dinners - and I'll try not to think about the fact that in a few months' time, Elinor could be - " He stopped, breathing heavily, threw his napkin to one side, and turned for the door. "Excuse me."_

"What else was I meant to say?" Anthony protested. "'Congratulations, Carnaby, for putting my daughter's health at risk'?" Anthony snorted in disgust. "Doesn't the man have _any_ self-control?"

"Anthony, dearest," Edith reminded him, "they're husband and wife and they're in love. How much self-control would _you _have shown?"

"_I _took precautions," Anthony retorted darkly.

Edith tutted. "So did Jack and Elinor." She sighed. "I'm not going to embarrass you by going into all the gory details of your daughter's marriage for you, but," she added pointedly, "I _shall_ refer you to a young man called Nicholas Phillip Strallan, who was conceived when his papa and mama - who was forty-one at the time - had grown rather lax with their _own_ precautions."

"You think I've no room to talk," he translated, dully. "But _I_ never put _you_ in the family way again so soon after one of ours was born."

"Luck, my sweet one," Edith smiled helplessly. "Pure, dumb luck. I think that you owe Elinor a rather large apology. She's pregnant and exhausted and _frightened_ and she needs her papa, now more than ever." Edith cuddled up to him, hand stroking down his belly. "Vi and I are the ones who quarrel, not you two. I hate to see you so at odds with each other. It isn't right."

Anthony slid his arm around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Just… seeing her so - so _pale_ and _ill_… I haven't seen a woman look like that since…"

Edith looked suddenly up at him. "Since Maude," she realised. "Oh, my _darling_…"

He swallowed, eyes glittering. "She's only twenty-nine. Maude was just thirty. Two young women who… Edith, if _anything_ happened to her, _anything_… I don't think I would survive it."

* * *

"Right," said Mrs Cox severely, setting the teapot on the side-table, and passing Lottie to her mama. "Now, you just tell me what's wrong, my girl." Her little cottage on the estate - given to her when she had retired ten years ago - was cosy and welcoming, and Elinor sank gratefully into the fireside chair.

"Wrong?" she asked, a touch too brightly. "Nothing's wrong. I… had a touch of the 'flu, a few weeks ago. It's just… knocked me for six a bit, that's all." After the way Daddy had reacted the night before, the last thing she needed was to face the disappointment and scorn of _another_ person she respected. Especially not Mrs Cox. She'd pay for her lie later, of course, but just now, it seemed a far better option than

"Rubbish!" snorted Mrs Cox. "The influenza doesn't make you empty your stomach twice in one morning - oh, yes, I know all about that! Bet you'd forgotten Maisie's mother's my niece." Elinor flushed - she _had_ forgotten to whom the sweet, mousy girl who had been looking after them was related. _Just another thing that Daddy would be disappointed in._

Mrs Cox fixed Elinor with a hard stare. "You're like your mama, my lamb - strong as an ox - and the only time she was ever queasy was when she was - " Mrs Cox stopped, her eyes going suddenly wide. "Ah-_ha!_ So _that's _it!"

"Mrs Cox - "

"You're in the family way again!" Mrs Cox looked down at the sleepy child in Elinor's arms. "And your little miss over there only half a year old. Oh, my _lamb_," she soothed as tears started to run down Elinor's cheeks. "Oh, there, there. Never you fret…"

"I'm _exhausted_," Elinor whispered. "And Jack's a darling, and he's wonderful with Lottie, but… he can't do _this_. And I'm queasy _all the time_ and I feel so _stupid_. And Daddy thinks so too!"

"Nonsense!" Mrs Cox snorted, but her voice was much gentler than usual. "Your papa worships the ground you walk on and always has done."

Elinor shook her head. "You should have seen his face last night at dinner when we told him. He looked so _ashamed_ of me. And he was so _cross_ with Jack - they've never really… g-got along anyway but _this_…"

"Oh, my love," sighed Mrs Cox, "you're not the only lass to find herself starting another little one sooner after the first than she'd have liked. He'll come round - and sharpish too, if I know your mama. She'll not let him sulk for long." The old cook reached for her teapot. "Now, you have a sip of tea, and we'll have a chat about making your tummy less poorly, hmm?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you up to a walk, do you think, my sweet one?"

Her father's voice at the library door made Elinor look up from the book she was reading. At length, she lifted an eyebrow, and replied, "It depends. Are you g-going to say unkind things again?"

"No." His smile was tired and somewhat sad.

"Better and better!" Elinor stood and brushed out her slacks. "A turn round the orchard, then?"

Her father offered his arm to her. Elinor took it. "I _hate_ it when we quarrel," she admitted as they stepped out on to the terrace outside the library.

Anthony turned and kissed her forehead, just as he had done when she was a very little girl. "So do I."

For a good few minutes, they walked in silence. At length, shoulders set as if in expectation of hearing something rather unpleasant, Elinor announced, "I know you must be frightfully disappointed in me."

"_Disappointed_? Darling - "

His daughter forged on, heedless. "Hardly being sensible, was it?" She chuckled. "I suppose you're wondering what the point of all that education was, now. You shouldn't have even bothered with Phoebe. French and how to curtsey might have been enough."

Anthony shot her an old-fashioned look. "Oh, yes, your mother would have been delighted about _that_. You're a wonderful doctor, my sweet one, and I'm so proud of you - of _everything_ you've achieved."

Elinor smiled weakly. "Just not so proud of the fact that in a few months, I'll have two children under the age of one."

Her father sighed heavily and sat down on the bench that overlooked the orchard. After a moment, Elinor joined him. "Sweet one… whatever I said, or did, last night… it wasn't because I was disappointed in you. Please believe that."

"Then why…?"

Her father gave her another one of those sad, appraising smiles. "We - your mama and I - we never really talked to you about my first wife, did we?"

"Maude?" Elinor's face creased in confusion. "No."

"Well, you know… she had several miscarriages." At Elinor's soft exclamation, he extended his arm and curled it about her shoulders, tugging her closer. "Brothers and sisters you never had the chance to meet."

"Daddy…"

"She died in childbirth." There, it was out. Bluntly said. "It had been a difficult pregnancy, and she was weak and exhausted and - " Anthony swallowed, eyes suddenly bright with tears. "If I was angry, darling girl, with you or with Jack, it was only because the idea of losing you too, in such a way, _terrifies_ me."

Elinor blinked up at him. "It terrifies me, too." Her face crumpled. "And Jack… he's barely slept a wink in weeks with worry. And we thought… being here, with you and Mummy, and all the rest of the family…" She sighed. "There's no one for us in Boston, not since Jack's mother died and… I don't want to raise two children an ocean away from their grandparents and - " She stopped, pressing a hand to her forehead. "We thought… well, now was as good a time as any to - to think about coming home. For good, this time." She chanced a glance at her father. "Only… we'd need a little help. Somewhere to stay, while we got ourselves settled. Looked for work. That sort of thing. So… do you think… I mean, obviously you'd have to talk to Mummy… you might not want us under your feet again… but… oh, Daddy, it would mean _so_ much, if Jack and I and the children could live at Locksley, just for a little while." Elinor worried anxiously at her lip. "Please?"

"Elinor, my dearest darling," her father exhaled, "I'd like _nothing_ better."

* * *

"So he's not going to throw me out of his house?" Jack checked as he laced up his shoes.

Elinor shot him an amused look in the mirror as she put her earrings in. "No. In fact, he's delighted that we want to stay. It will be so much better for you, too, darling - not having to run yourself so ragged to look after me. And… well, Lottie will have her grandma and grandpapa and… you won't mind England, will you? Not too terribly?"

Jack stood and kissed the top of her head. "Not _too_ terribly. Although… I doubt your father and I will ever be close friends, honey."

Elinor swivelled on her stool and fixed him a fond, exasperated look. "You're two of the people I adore most in this world, you and him. And… when I was a very little girl, he was the first man who ever loved me, the man who showed me what a woman ought to expect from her husband."

"Well, I'm afraid he thinks I've failed there." He shrugged, kneeling down so that their eyes were on a level. "Perhaps I have."

Elinor placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned in to kiss him. "No. You, Jack Carnaby, are my clever, brave, supportive husband, and I love you. And that's all." She drew back. "I promise once you get to know him better - and he gets to know you, _properly_ know you - then he'll see your value. I _promise._"


	4. Chapter 4

"All ready to visit Home Farm today, William?" Anthony asked over breakfast.

William's head shot up. Carefully, he set his spoon down next to his bowl. For a moment, he looked as if he were about to protest, "O-of course. Ready whenever you are."

His mother looked up from her own breakfast, frowning. "Aren't you taking Laura out today, darling?"

William flushed red. "Doesn't matter," he muttered. "I'll… pop over after breakfast and explain."

"But doesn't she go back to Paris on Monday?" Edith persisted. "And you'll spend most of tomorrow on that horrid cricket field - you won't have time to say goodbye."

William shrugged and stood, bending to kiss her cheek. "It's fine. We'll… catch five minutes after the match."

Under the table, Edith nudged Anthony's ankle with her foot and shot him a meaningful look. "No, no," Anthony reassured him. "Go on… take the day with Miss Stewart. There's nothing up at the farm that won't keep."

William hesitated, nibbling at his lower lip. "You're sure? It wouldn't be… shirking?"

"Not at all!" his mother replied flatly. "Your father can manage perfectly well, and I won't have anyone saying that a son of mine isn't behaving like a gentleman. When you've _made_ plans with a lady, William, you _stick_ to them."

A faint, sheepish grin broke out onto his face. "Right-o." He kissed Edith's cheek again. "Thanks, Mother. I'll be back for dinner." The door shut quickly behind him.

"Well," said Anthony, looking around the table, "trip to the farm, Vi? Nick?"

"Oh, no!" his wife interrupted, before either concerned party could answer. "Vi and Nick are helping me with village fete things today." She smirked. "I bagsied them weeks ago. And farm animals and pregnant women don't _really_ mix, do they, so don't even _think_ of asking Elinor." At the other end of the table, Elinor shot her mother a curious look. _What are you up to, Mummy? As if _you_ didn't go traipsing around all the farms with Daddy when _you_ were expecting!_

"I know," Edith pressed on sweetly, "darling, why don't you take Jack with you?"

There was a sound of spluttering from both ends of the table - Anthony looked as if a sip of tea had gone down the wrong way, while Elinor was thumping Jack on the back as he coughed around a mouthful of toast crumbs.

"I - " Anthony began.

"Is that - " Jack tried.

Edith and Elinor exchanged fond smiles. "Well, that's settled, then," Edith trilled brightly. "Now, we must really get on. Come on, Vi, Nick." As she passed Anthony's chair, she bent and kissed the top of his head. "Be nice," she murmured firmly against his hair.

An indeterminate, strangled noise was her only reply.

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Jack worried as Elinor passed him an old shirt. "Couldn't I cry off? Say you were sick again and I needed to stay and look after you?"

"Sorry, darling. I'm feeling miles better since Mrs Cox gave me the ginger root. Only been sick once this morning." Her hand stroked reassuringly up his arm. "You'll be fine. Anyway - you know about farms, and things, don't you? Enough to get by?"

"Sweetheart, I'm certainly not smart enough to keep up with your dad."

Elinor squeezed his hands. "Then don't _try_ to be. Just… show an interest, hmm?"

"Hey, you don't think he's going to take a shotgun to me, do you?"

"Of _course_ not. Mummy'd have his guts for garters." Elinor tutted. "I don't know why you're so skittish of him. He's a darling."

"To _you_, maybe," Jack snorted and finished buttoning up the shirt. "But when it comes down to _me_, he hoped that his eldest daughter'd marry a better guy than some upstart Yankee quack who - "

"Ah, Carnaby, there you are," Sir Anthony stood at the half-open bedroom door, dressed for the outdoors. "Ready?"

"Absolutely, sir." Elinor stifled a smile; at her father's voice, Jack had shot to attention, like a soldier about to be inspected by his colonel. Brightly, she kissed Jack's cheek, and then her father's. "Well, have a lovely day." Almost teasingly, she added, "Play nicely, won't you?"

"I wonder…" Anthony began, once the sound of her footsteps had faded away down the corridor, and then stopped.

Jack lifted a dry eyebrow and finished, "…which of us she was talking to?"

A thin smile passed over his father-in-law's face. _Well,_ Jack thought as they headed downstairs, _it's a start, I guess._

* * *

"They'll be… all right, won't they?" Elinor fretted as she and her mother watched their respective husbands climb into Anthony's car. Whatever she had said to Jack, Daddy could be frightfully hard on people he didn't like, especially where his children were concerned.

Edith squeezed her shoulder. "Of course they will. You know what Daddy's like - he tries to be all gruff on the surface, but inside he's as soft as anything. Just give them a little time alone together, and they'll come back the best of friends. Now," her mother continued, "I need your help."

"With the fete?"

"No, not with the fete. With William, and the estate…"

* * *

His father-in-law was really a very sprightly man for eighty-one, Jack thought as they picked their way along the hedgerow. After their tour of the farm, Sir Anthony had insisted on pressing on for a short walk across the border into Downton land, to inspect some fields he was considering buying from his brother-in-law the Earl. "Well, Carnaby," he said at last. "Elinor says you'd like to stay at Locksley for a while."

"Yes, sir."

"And if that's going to be the case, then…" His father-in-law sighed heavily. "Well… I think there's some clearing of the air to be had between us, if it's all to work as it should." That same thin smile from earlier passed over his face again. "I imagine that was what my wife was attempting to engineer, in getting us out of the house together like this."

Jack ducked his head to hide a grin. "That… does sound rather like something Lady Strallan would do. She and Elinor are… quite alike, in that way."

"Meddlers both," Sir Anthony agreed, and Jack was surprised to hear a trace of amusement in his voice as he stopped at the fence cutting one field in half. Silence fell for a while as they leant on the gate together and looked over the pristine countryside.

"Is it because I was divorced?" Jack asked eventually. "Why you - you don't approve of me?"

Sir Anthony shuffled uncomfortably next to him. "Partly, I suppose," he admitted at last. "At first, anyway." He shot his son-in-law a wry look. "I… had some stupid notion that you were - stringing Elinor along. That one day you'd… turn around and decide you were tired of _this_ marriage, too."

Jack swallowed. "I didn't divorce Rachel because I was bored. I… she and I were stupid kids when we got married. Just out of college. You know she… had an affair. Well, she… she was in love with the other guy, you know. They're married now. Two kids, another on the way last I heard." He huffed out a laugh. "I loved her. I wanted her to be happy. Even if it wasn't with me. That was why I knew I had to… get her out of it." He shrugged. "Anyway, that was… damn, '40, '41? Shipped out to Europe with the army the next year. Probably a good thing. And then… I met Elinor, and I knew… the _second_ I set eyes on her that…" He stopped at the tinge of red about his father-in-law's cheeks. "So… I didn't divorce Rachel because I got bored. Just so you know."

"I see."

"I'm sorry, sir," he blurted out.

Sir Anthony turned astonished blue eyes on him. "Whatever for?"

"That I can't be the man you think Elinor deserves. I couldn't give her a church wedding, I don't have a title - I'm not even English. And then… there's the baby." He sighed. "It's all been… a bit of a mess. But I _do_ love her. I'd do _anything_ for her. And I know… words are just words, but - but I swear I'll… I'll do my - my level best to make her happy, always."

His father-in-law's hand settled firmly on his shoulder and squeezed. "I know you will, Carnaby," he admitted gently. "I suppose… well, every man likes to think that his daughter still needs him, even after she's grown. When Lottie's older, you'll see what I mean, I'm sure. To my shame, it's taken me rather longer than it ought… to realise that… well, that Elinor has someone extremely capable to lean on these days, and that that man is no longer me." He extended his hand. "I think I must beg your pardon, for being so insufferable."

Jack shook firmly. "No. Never where Elinor's happiness is concerned."

"Come on, Carnaby."

"Where to, sir?"

"There's a public house about a mile down the road where the landlord serves an excellent ale…"

* * *

"They're home!" Elinor had set her half-full teacup down and made for the door before her mother had even had time to stand up.

Out in the hall, her father and husband were handing their coats off to Stewart… and _laughing with each other._

Elinor stopped dead. Well, this was good. Far better than she had expected, really. "Hello. Where have you two been?"

Jack kissed her and she tasted beer. Nose wrinkled, she wondered aloud, "Have you been to a _pub?_"

"Guilty as charged, ma'am," Jack admitted. "But your dad and I had a good long talk, and… I think we'll manage."

"I hate to say I told you so…"

Anthony felt Edith's arms slide around his waist from behind and hug him. Fondly, he patted her hand. "So everything's been sorted out, then?" Edith wondered, resting her cheek against his arm.

"I think so, my sweet one. We cleared the air, anyway." Half-grudgingly, he added, "Nice chap, really."

"You don't say," Edith smirked at him. "But I'm afraid your day's labours aren't over _just_ yet. We need to talk about William."

"Oh? What about William?"

His wife hooked his arm into her own. "The fact that he's your absolute double - especially when it comes to matters of the heart."

"Ah." Anthony led her back into the library, shutting the door on Jack and Elinor, who were still chatting in the hall. "I gather we're talking about Laura Stewart."

"Yes." Edith shook her head as she sank back into her armchair. "You're going to have to talk to him, you know. I can see that he's desperate to visit her in Paris… but he won't, not unless you give him your blessing."

"Whatever does he need my blessing for? He knows that we're all very fond of Laura."

"He thinks he'd be leaving you in the lurch," Edith pointed out patiently. "Shirking his duties on the estate. You heard him this morning."

Anthony frowned. "We could manage, for a few weeks. A few months, even, if he wanted."

"Then will you kindly tell William that?"

"Of course." Anthony's frown deepened. "Although… I'd miss his help with the paperwork. You're snowed under enough as it is with your column, and if you want to start that memoir any time soon, you'll need all the time you can get."

"Hmm," Edith agreed, "now if only we had someone terribly clever living here for the next few months, who'd be glad of an occupation while she, say, grows another grandchild for us..."

"Elinor? I say, do you think she'd agree?"

Edith sat back in her chair, giving the self-satisfied smile of a woman who has solved several very difficult problems and is frightfully proud of herself. "She already has."

"Well," Anthony smiled, "this is a family business - and many hands make light work."

"It could work, couldn't it?"

"More than that, it could be a tremendous success," Anthony reassured her. "Not lost your talent for meddling, have you, my sweet one?"

"This isn't meddling," his wife protested innocently. "This is _fixing things._ Besides," she added with a smirk, "you knew I was an interfering busybody when you married me…"


	5. Chapter 5

"William?"

Will looked up from the paperwork spread across the desk and rubbed a tired hand across his eyes. His father stared anxiously down at him. "Dear boy, it's half past eleven at night. Time to stop, isn't it?"

His son shrugged. "Didn't want to… fall behind."

Anthony lifted an eyebrow. "Not much chance of that, I shouldn't think." He came into the room, and shut the door behind him with a soft snap. "Your mother thinks that we ought to talk about Miss Stewart."

William dropped the pencil he was holding. "I see."

His father lifted the whisky tantalus from the sideboard. "Drink?"

"Al-alright. Thanks." Awkwardly, Will stood and went to hover by the fireside.

His father shot him a wry look and handed him his drink. "Well, sit down, my boy. No need to look so green about the gills."

Hesitantly, William sat down in one of the armchairs. Anthony took the other. "So. Are you in love with her?"

William choked on his sip of whisky. When he had recovered, he straightened his shoulders and said very carefully, "You needn't worry that I'll do anything stupid. Sully the family name. We haven't…" (Will blushed) "…you know."

His father's voice was most grave when he replied. "William, your mother and I happen to have a much higher opinion of you than you seem to believe." Anthony took a sip from his glass, shaking his head in exasperation. "'Sully the family name', indeed! Where _do_ you young people learn such rot? Not from your parents - not in this case. Or at least I _hope_ not."

Will shrugged, shamefaced.

"So, to return to my original question, are you in love with her?"

William was still avoiding his eye, embarrassed by such frank conversation. That was much more in Mother's line than Dad's. "Yes. I - Dad, I think about her all the time when she's away. And when she's with me… I feel… at home. Does that make any sort of sense?"

Thinking of his darling Edith, Anthony nodded. "Perfect sense. Then… what's the hold-up? Why on earth haven't you proposed yet?"

William shrugged. "She… Dad, she _loves_ her work in Paris. She's brilliant at it. Would it really be fair to ask her to - to give all that up? To ask her to come back here and lock herself up in a boring little cage and settle down to - to parish committees and the Women's Institute and the Mothers' Union?" He wrinkled his nose. "She'd despise it, and pretty soon she'd despise me too."

Anthony exhaled noisily. "Well, does it have to be like that? I think your mother would disagree. Bobby too, if she heard you talking like that. And don't even _mention_ your Aunt Mary. None of _them_ have done that, have they? Perhaps wives might have done once - with not a little help from their husbands - but not _now_. Or… not if they marry sensible men." He lifted his glass. "Jack and Elinor, for example." It was true. That morning had seen the Carnabys curled up in the same armchair, poring over the latest issue of _The Lancet_ together.

"No. I suppose not."

"Well, then. Do you think _she_ loves _you_, Will?"

"She says so. But… whatever I could offer her here, it'd still be a poor imitation of what she has in Paris. Even if she got a job in London or - " William swallowed and then pressed bravely on. "Whatever happens, eventually I'm going to need her help here, aren't I?"

Very carefully, Anthony set aside his glass. "Ah. I see." He was silent for a while. Contemplating one's own mortality was not, after all, a particularly pleasant thing. "I won't pretend that I don't understand you. Yes. Of course you shall. But… there's plenty of time for worrying about the estate and shouldering responsibility once I'm dead and buried."

"Dad - " William's voice was raw and throaty.

His father smiled at him. "My dear boy, I've no regrets. I have been married to two _exceptional_ women. I've been lucky enough to grow old with one of them. I've raised four children of whom I've _very_ proud, and I know that when I'm no longer here, I shall be leaving Locksley in the safest hands possible."

"Do you really think so?"

"I _know_ so." His father's smile became lopsided. "And if you think your mother will be able to resist the temptation to meddle for more than five minutes together…!" He shook his head as William huffed out a laugh. "Well, all I really wanted to say was that… if you wanted to go and stay with Laura in Paris for a while, then you could. Elinor and your mother have put their heads together, and apparently she'd like to have something to keep her occupied while she's expecting. Between us, we can manage." He set a serious hand on his son's shoulder. "William, I wasted _so_ much time with your mother by - by thinking that my duty was more important, or that my situation couldn't possibly make her happy… By Providence, everything worked itself out, but… if you think Laura Stewart is the woman you are meant to spend your life with, then take my advice: _hold on to her, and don't ever let her go._"

* * *

"Did you settle everything with William?" Edith asked sleepily as Anthony climbed into bed.

His arm tucked around her and pulled her close as his lips found her hair. "I think so. I gave him a bit to think about, anyway." There was silence, and then he asked, "Sweet one… have I made you happy?"

Edith sat up. "What's brought this on?"

"Oh… something William said, about wives and cages. You - you _have_ had the life you wanted?"

Edith kissed him, very gently. "_Yes._ Absolutely. Anthony… darling, I spent so many years alone and unhappy and struggling through my life… and then you just walked back into it and… _rescued me_. There's no other way to put it. I - I could never have done all the things I have done if I had not had you here by my side. You have been - you _are_… perfectly wonderful." She took his hand and murmured shyly, "And I hope that I have been… somewhat the wife you wanted."

Anthony's fingers was gentle against her cheek. "Every morning," he said solemnly, "and every evening, since the day we married, I have thanked God for you, my dearest darling."


End file.
